Learner and Master
by Jarthkebil
Summary: King Micah and the Alliance prepare to storm the Fright Zone, but are hopelessly outnumbered by the Horde. Not only that, but Micah will have to face Shadow Weaver one on one and confront his past. What will the outcome of this battle be, and how will it affect the future of Etheria? A one-shot. Rated T for violence.


**Learner and Master**

King Micah and his soldiers finally clambered out of the Whispering Woods, only to be met with a more terrifying sight.

A sprawling, desolate wasteland lay before them. Craggy rocks the size of mountains protruded from the barren ground, stretching high above them to the overcast, blood-red sky. Down below them a winding river ran through a deep, treacherous canyon – a river, for lack of a better term, for that purple bile churning and bubbling down there could hardly be called water. Whatever it was, its current flowed toward a large, imposing land mass just on the horizon – a mountain, a canyon, a large crater, Micah couldn't say – and from its center, an eerie, yellow glow pierced through the darkness like an evil eye.

_The Fright Zone._

Hordak's central base, an industrial metropolis, where it was rumored that nary a living thing could be found for miles around. Even from here, Micah could smell the toxic fumes that plagued that accursed city. _A fitting kingdom for one such as __Lord__ Hordak_, he thought to himself in disgust.

"Enemy sighted!" a soldier from his ranks cried. Micah squinted his eyes. It was hard to see far in the dim light, but he thought he just make out what looked like a large mass quickly pouring out from the glowing city. Before long, he could hear the low thundering of marching feet, of large machinery being rolled out. The Horde was coming. In a matter of minutes, they would be upon them.

Micah turned to face his army, which consisted of a few hundred warriors and sorcerers from the various Princess kingdoms. It wasn't much, but it was all they could afford to give after their last battle with the Horde. It would've made him feel better if his sister Castaspella had sent him sorcerers from Mystacor to aid his Alliance, but they had been quite adamant about not getting involved with the Princesses' war. _Some things never change,_ he supposed. His wife, Queen Angella, however, assured him that this army would be more than enough to storm and overtake the Fright Zone; the last battle they had dealt the Horde a heavy blow in casualties and the Alliance now had the upper hand. This battle could finally put an end to the war.

"Steel yourselves, and prepare for battle!" he hollered to his troops, but instead of a rallying battle cry, his army gave a collective gasp of horror. Micah turned his gaze back to the Horde, and his blood ran cold at what he saw.

The Horde was finally coming into view, but it wasn't just soldiers advancing toward them; rows and rows of large tanks were rolling up behind the heavily armored infantrymen, and huge robots that resembled spiders were following close beside them. Micah had never seen anything like this before. Anyone could tell at a glance that his army was hopelessly 's calculations had been wrong: the Horde hadn't been weakened at all; they were now unleashing their true might. It was as if they had been waiting for them.

_Is this what Hordak has been working on __this entire time__? How long has he been planning __for __this?_ Fear knotted up in Micah's gut and twisted it in its icy grip, his confidence rapidly abandoning him. He turned to see his army quivering in their boots, all color gone from their fear-stricken faces. _Don't let them see your fear,_ he told himself. _They're as scared as you are, so don't give them a reason to run away. Think of Angella. Think of little Glimmer. If you let your fear take over now, you will never see them again._ He took up his magic staff, gripped in in his shaking hand, and raised it above his head, addressing his army.

"Stand with me, brave warriors of Etheria, and do not be afraid! Hold your ground! We must not let the Horde take our lands! We must protect our kingdoms, our people, and our family and loved ones! Push the Horde back! Wipe them out! Overrun the Fright Zone and liberate this land from Hordak's evil! Fight them to the very end!" His soldiers began to take a more aggressive stance; their fear had not completely left them, but now they were ready to fight for their home again, and die defending it if they had to.

"For the Alliance!" roared Micah.

_"For the Alliance!_"his army chanted back.

"For the honor of the Queen!"

_"__For the honor of the Queen!"_

"And for Etheria!"

_"For Etheria!"_

"Charge!"

He began to run as hard as he could toward the advancing army, his troops close behind him. Adrenaline flowed freely throughout his entire body, carrying him farther and faster than ever thought possible. The Horde was closing in fast. Micah began shooting magic projectiles from his staff as he ran, Horde soldiers falling with each strike. They would be upon him soon. He focused his mind in the faces of his wife and daughter. He must win this battle for them. For everyone. They were all counting on him. He must win. He must! He let go of all conscious thought and his instincts began to take over, just as the gap was closed and both armies clashed violently against each other.

Metal clanged and gunfire was heard, magic spells were flying wildly while tanks and robots shot their laser cannon fire. The ground exploded where projectiles hit and missed their marks, and soldiers screamed as they were caught in the crossfire. Micah didn't allow himself to hear or see the devastation around him. He had to concentrate or else he would die along with everyone else. He swung his staff wildly, shooting magic at distant targets while subduing those within his reach. No matter how many battles he fought in his lifetime, the experience was never any less harrowing for him. He mustn't stop to think. He must act. He must fight. _Kill now, hate yourself for it later._

One of the towering robot spiders lumbered toward him, shooting its laser at him. He barely managed to jump out of the way in time. Without thinking, he leapt up at it, grabbing one of its legs and began to quickly climb up to its circular body. He narrowly dodged another laser as he scaled its metallic side. He hopped up to the top, piercing its metal hide with his staff, causing sparks to fly as he hammered away at it. It eventually shut down and began to fall. Micah jumped off as it came crashing down beneath him. He rolled away to absorb the shock of landing on the hard, rocky ground. He allowed himself a small smile as he observed the explosive wreckage he caused. _But that was just one among hundreds,_ he reminded himself grimly; no time to celebrate just yet.

Hours dragged by. Or maybe it was minutes. For all Micah knew, it could have been days or years; time held little meaning for him as he continued to chip away at the Horde army. But for every one enemy he shot down, three more seemed to take his place. There seemed to be no end to the Horde's army, while his own numbers were rapidly diminishing. More and more Alliance soldiers fell around him, dropping like flies everywhere he looked. He felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn't stop now. As he fell yet another foe, he noticed a Princess fighting a Horde soldier while a tank pulled up and pointed its cannon in her direction. He ran toward her, yelling at her to get out of the way, but she didn't seem to hear him. The cannon fired its laser. The ground in front of Micah exploded, causing him to fly backward, hitting the ground hard as he landed. He coughed as he struggled to catch his breath again, each attempt causing his lower sides to flare up in burning pain. He reached down to cover his abdomen, feeling a sickening wetness as he did so. He pulled his hand back and saw that it was covered in blood.

He felt feebly around the ground, trying to find his staff. He felt incredibly weak, and he knew that it wasn't just because of his lack of blood. _I've used up too much magic._ He finally found his staff a few feet away from him, and he used it to help keep him steady as he lifted himself up, blinding pain shooting up and down his body as he did so. It took every fiber of his being to keep himself from passing out. He leaned unsteadily against his staff, his hand pressed over his wound, and he stood there for a bit, wondering what to do next. He didn't have that much magic left in him, and yet the battle around him showed no signs of stopping. He wouldn't last much longer in this condition. What was he going to do?

"Hello, Micah."

His thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar voice. He whirled around to face his new opponent, and he felt all the color drain from his face as he realized who it was.

Appearing from the dust, a tall woman garbed in crimson was slowly gliding towards him. Her raven hair seemed to wave and billow above her head like a great, black fire, and her face was completely covered by a red mask, but Micah knew that voice well. How could ever forget?

"It's been a long time, hasn't it, dear Micah?" the woman said. "I like the beard."

"Light Spinner?" Micah finally said. The woman gave him a disdainful laugh.

"Light Spinner is dead, Micah. I am Shadow Weaver, second in command to Lord Hordak himself and general of all his armies in the Horde. And you seem to have done rather well for yourself too, I see. Becoming one of Mystacor's greatest sorcerers, marrying a young, beautiful Princess, becoming the king of a land of pathetic weaklings, and heading an Alliance of Princesses and wizards in a futile attempt to resist Lord Hordak's inevitable dominance. Ha! What a waste. This battle is lost, Micah. You cannot win against the Horde."

"Shut up," Micah coughed weakly.

"I have a proposition for you, old friend," said Shadow Weaver, extending a clawed hand to Micah. "Join me. Join the Horde. Together with Lord Hordak, Etheria will be ours to rule, as was always our right! We will accomplish many great things together, you and I, just like we used to years ago. Come with me, Micah. Join us."

Micah stared down his old mentor, his breathing sharp and ragged. He finally shook his head. "Master Norwyn was right about you: you have always hungered after power." He shakily raised his staff and pointed it at Shadow Weaver. "I cannot, and will not, allow you to destroy this land and slaughter my people,Light Spinner. I will never join you."

Shadow Weaver lowered her hand, staring down her old student. "How disappointing," she simply said. She raised her hands a little, and immediately a dozen or more shadow minions sprang up behind her and launched themselves at Micah. He swung his staff, creating a magical arc that evaporated the shadow beings, then began to shoot a series of projectiles at Shadow Weaver. She lazily waved her hand, deflecting each blast without much effort.

"Is that the best you can do?" she laughed evilly at him. Sweat was starting to pour down Micah's brow and his vision was beginning to get hazy. "I see you've hit your magical limit already," Shadow Weaver continued. "You always were such a reckless and careless little scamp!" She sent more shadow minions after him. He leapt forward, swatting at them with his staff, as he swiftly made his way toward Shadow Weaver. Before she could cast another spell, he swung his staff upward, hitting her square in the face and knocking her mask off. She gasped in pain, covering her face with her hands. Micah took a step back as Shadow Weaver glared venomously at him. Her face was scarred and horribly disfigured, just the way he remembered it on that day; the same face that haunted his nightmares every single night for the past two decades.

Shadow Weaver gave a bloodcurdling scream and sent Micah flying backwards with an energy blast. He fell flat on his back, coughing painfully. The older woman loomed above him, growling as she lifted her hands once more, and from her pointed fingertips red lightning burst forth. Micah howled and writhed as the electricity violently coursed through his body. Shadow Weaver relented after a bit, letting Micah desperately gasp for air.

"You were my greatest student," she said in a low voice, "But you forget, I taught you everything you know. And with the aid of the Black Garnet, I have become even more powerful than when we last met. What a shame: I had such high hopes for you back in the day; you should not have opposed me, boy. Your doom is sealed. Soon, all of Etheria will bow down if fear of Lord Hordak, Bright Moon will fall, and I will take the Queen's power for myself! Now, do you have any last words?" Micah was curled in a fetal position, finding it difficult to breathe. He weakly lifted his head to look up at Shadow Weaver, his eyes filled with a deep sadness.

"I'm… I'm sorry. This… this is all my fault," he rasped quietly. "If it wasn't for me, none of this would have happened, and we wouldn't be here today. I am so sorry about what happened to you, Light Spinner. If I hadn't ran away during the Spell of Obtainment, I might have been able to save you. But I was a coward, a stupid, scared kid. I've never stopped blaming myself for all these years, and I wish I could go back and change everything. I'm so, so sorry." Tears began to stream down his face as he lay himself back down on the ground. "Good-bye, Light Spinner..."

Shadow Weaver was taken aback for a bit after hearing all of this, but quickly scoffed it away and resumed electrocuting Micah. He shook and writhed under her grasp, but he no longer felt any pain; in fact, he was beginning to feel quite tired. Darkness began to close in around him, his vision getting blurrier with every second. He could no longer see Shadow Weaver's angry, nightmarish face, but instead he began to see Queen Angella and little Glimmer smiling down at him. He tried to reach out to them but found that his arms felt quite heavy.

_I'm sorry, _he tried to tell them._ I've let you down. __I've let the Alliance fall. And __I've let __Light Spinner down __all those years ago__. I've let everyone down. Please forgive me._ The shadowy figures of his wife and daughter reached down and took him up in their arms in a tight, warm embrace. Micah could feel himself smile as he shut his teary eyes and let the void envelop him completely.

_I love you, my sweet __little __Glimmer… my dear, __darling__ Angella…_

* * *

_Shadow Weaver limped down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall, praying that she __would __make it in time._

_ The battle had been won. It was close, but the Horde proved to be quite victorious. Hordak would be most pleased. __Now was most certainly the time for celebration, but she desperately needed to rest, to recharge. Today's battle was a hard one, and she had used up all her power when she… _

_ She almost collapsed on the door frame, groaning weakly as she did so. She glided over into her chambers, drifting to the large Garnet suspended in the middle of the room. She felt as if she were dying. She leaned on the Black Garnet, removing her mask and setting it aside. It was going to be quite a while before she was back to full strength…_

_ She heard a tiny gasp emanate from behind the Black Garnet. She snapped her head up to see the frightened faces of Catra and Adora peaking out from their hiding spot. Shadow Weaver hissed and yelled at them as they tried to run out of the room. She took some of the Black Garnet's power to block the door and freeze Catra in her tracks._

_She was in no mood for this; the children had been warned __time and again__ that her chambers were strictly off limits, and yet here was Catra, getting her and Adora into mischief yet again. Vileness boiled up inside Shadow Weaver as she glided menacingly over to Catra. She had killed many people today, and she was more than fine with doing away with this little brat once and for all…_

* * *

Queen Angella paced back and forth in the throne room for what felt like ages. She hadn't heard any news about the battle all day. She assured herself that everything was still fine, that Micah was a brave warrior and that he was fine, but none of that stopped the worrying.

This was nothing new for her; she always worried about her husband every time he went away to fight the Horde. She just couldn't help herself. _Everything is fine,_ she told herself the millionth time. _Micah is alright. He's always alright. Just wait. He'll be home before you know it._

"Your Majesty!" A guard burst into the room, distracting the queen from her thoughts. "Forgive the abrupt intrusion, but a messenger has just arrived from the battlefield and wishes to speak with you!"

Angella almost couldn't contain herself. "Send them in!" Immediately following the guard was a lone figure carrying with them a large parcel. The messenger ran up to the queen and bowed low.

"Your Majesty," said the messenger, "I have just arrived from the battlefield-"

"Yes, yes, I know," the queen said impatiently. "Now tell me, what has happened? Is my husband alright?" She thought she could hear a soft gulp come from the messenger.

"It… It was a massacre, Your Majesty. The Horde had been waiting for them with a large army of soldiers, tanks, robots and the like. They were outnumbered."

A cold, sinking feeling gripped Angella's very being. "But what of King Micah? Where is my husband?" She couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth, but she had a horrible feeling she already knew the answer. The messenger began to nervously unwrap the parcel.

"None survived, Your Majesty. The battle is lost. We found this among… among one of the charred remains. Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this was all I was able to safely smuggle out of the enemy's territory." They opened the wrappings to reveal Micah's magic staff. Angella gave a soft gasp and took the staff in her quivering hands.

"Your Majesty," the guard said after a bit, "The other Princesses are waiting for you in the council room; they wish to know about the outcome of the battle." Angella said nothing at first as she continued to stare at the staff in her hands, speechless. "Your Majesty…?" She looked up at the guard, trying to keep her composure.

"Tell the Princesses I will be attending to them shortly. I need to be alone for a moment. Go now."

"But Your Highness-"

"I said go." The guard and messenger both hastily bowed and exited the room. Angella collapsed into her throne, Micah's staff still in her hands. A second later a small voice broke the silence.

"Mommy, I just saw a messenger bring back news about the battle but Daddy wasn't with them. Where's Daddy?"

A little girl, no more than five or so, had teleported into the room at Angella's feet and began to tug at the queen's hand. Angella gave a sigh.

"Daddy's… not here right now, Glimmer. I… I can't talk to you right now. I have a meeting to get to, so go to your room for now and we'll talk about it later."

"But I wanna see Daddy!" wailed Glimmer. "Daddy said he would be home soon but he's not here and nobody will tell me where he is! Where is Daddy, Mommy? Why won't anybody tell me where Daddy is?"

"Glimmer that's enough!" barked Angella, her voice about to break. Glimmer began to cry softly, stunned by her mother's sudden outburst. Angella sighed again, knelt down to Glimmer's height, and put her hands on her shoulders.

"Listen to me, Glimmer. I will tell you everything that's happened today, but not right now. Right now, I need you to go to your room and stay there until I come get you. Do you understand?"

Glimmer nodded, sniffling.

"There's a good girl," Angella said gently, pulling Glimmer into a tight hug before walking her to the large doors and shutting them tight behind her. Alone at last, Angella sank to the floor, her mind swimming with a million different things going through it.

She couldn't believe it. They had lost the battle, after every one up til that point had been a huge success. How could she have been so wrong in her calculations? Did Hordak plan for it to happen this way? Did she send Micah into a death trap? Did she have her husband killed?

And then there were the Princesses. Each kingdom had lost a significant amount of soldiers these last few battles, and today's loss would surely cripple their forces almost beyond repair. She could already guess the outcome of sharing this information. They would declare this Alliance to be an absolute failure, that too many lives had been lost in this war, and they would all most likely disband and return to their own kingdoms. And honestly, she couldn't blame them: so much had been sacrificed and lost up to this point, and now it was all rendered meaningless. She couldn't demand any more of them; from the very beginning, this had always been her and Micah's war, and now she had lost both Micah and the war.

However, she swore right then and there that she would continue to hold back the Horde for as long as she could, on her own if she had to; it's what Micah would have done. He was always so stubborn and hotheaded, but it came from a genuine love for his people and the land. He believed in them, and would never stop fighting for them, even at the cost of his own life. And she loved him so much for it. Of course she would never stop fighting, no more than he would.

But what of Glimmer? How would she tell her that her Daddy was never coming home? Angella was certainly not looking forward to it, but there was an even greater concern on her mind: Glimmer was now all she had in the world. It hit her at that moment that she could never live with herself if she let anything bad happen to her. She had just lost her husband this day, and she was not about to lose her daughter anytime soon. She would keep her under constant surveillance and never allow to do anything dangerous beyond what was absolutely necessary. Glimmer most certainly wouldn't like it, not one bit, but Angella felt sure that, one day, she will grow to understand.

Angella just sat there for a good long while, absorbing the fact that Micah was truly gone, that she'll never see him again, never feel his warm touch or hear his infectious laugh ever again. He was gone forever, and it was all her fault.

For the first time in many years, Queen Angella buried her face into her arms, and wept aloud.


End file.
